


I Think It's Time You Left

by u_muggle



Series: The Otherworld [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/u_muggle/pseuds/u_muggle
Summary: Ever since Clara Oswald was a child she'd been able to see things others couldn't. She thought she was the only one who's fantasies lived in reality. Until the peculiar man with wild silver hair had other things to say on the matter. Now that she'd entered his world, it was time to meet some new friends......'It's the Doctor....' Marvin began.'Is he alright!?' Clara exclaimed. She was already pushing herself off the counter, her heart beating rapidly as she imagined the worst.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor & Clara Oswin Oswald, Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: The Otherworld [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1177820
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	I Think It's Time You Left

A week had passed since the incident in the bar but Clara could tell the Doctor was still unnerved by the whole thing. He had yet to return to his usual brusque self, their hunt for magical objects had been halted as even the thought of touching anything of power seemed to make him pause with disgust. The most telling sign was the fact that Clara had yet to see him use his left hand at all. Every time he picked up a book or mug of tea to the left of him, he would deliberately reach across with his right hand. Clara had started to try and only hold his left hand, to reassure him that it wasn't going to suddenly start attacking her of its own volition. Each time she did, he flinched and avoided her eye. It was becoming slightly ridiculous. Whatever that umbrella had been, it had been an object of great dark power, something which could easily be surmised just from looking at its owner. Clara was fairly certain that if she'd grabbed it like the Doctor had, then she definitely would not have had the will power to let it go. With a sigh, Clara sat up in bed and turned on the TV. A fuzzy image of her hallway and staircase appeared on the screen, a small digital clock informing her that it was now one in the morning. After Balthazar Stevens, a vampire and apparently well known member of the Underworld of the Otherworld, had been invited into her home by her traitorous door mat, and now Missy, an apparent psychopath and maybe sorceress, the Doctor had insisted on setting up a CCTV monitoring system in her home. The feed now led to her TV which was automatically viewed every time she turned it on. She was just about to change the channel to something a little more lively, when a large shadow flitted across the bottom most stair in the house. She froze, her eyes glued to the screen as a large, hulking mass began to crawl on all fours up the staircase. Its movements were jerky, its head constantly swivelling from side to side. With a sudden yelp of pain, it tumbled in a ball of fur back down to the bottom. Clara could hear the muttering of a surprisingly familiar voice.

'Are you ok Marvin?' she shouted, rolling her eyes and already pulling herself out of bed. Clara had first met Marvin at an Otherworld bar as he'd launched himself at the Doctor, fangs bared, and in her mind, ready to maul him to his death. It turned out that Marvin had in fact just been excited to see the Doctor and, like some sort of overly hairy puppy dog, had a habit of clumsily trailing after him. 

'I'm ok,' she heard the monster's muffled reply.

Pushing open her bedroom door, she ran her hand along the wall until she felt the familiar shape of her light switch. With one small click, the hallway and staircase were illuminated. Clara gingerly padded down the stairs to find Marvin beginning to pull himself to his feet. His eyes looked slightly teary as he rubbed one elbow and winced, his large fangs scraping his bottom lip in the process. With a rueful shake of her head and an inward sigh, Clara stepped closer to the monster and gently took his elbow in both her hands. Parting his shaggy brown hair, she noticed a small lump developing. He whimpered as she softly ran her fingers over it.

'Come on then,' she said kindly, dragging Marvin into the kitchen. She watched as he stooped to enter and then stood awkwardly as she rummaged in her freezer draw for a bag of peas. Grabbing a tea towel, she wrapped the bag up and pressed it firmly onto his elbow, taking his paw and placing it on top to hold the bag in place. Clara couldn't help a small giggle escape her at the sight of the rather bashful looking monster, his head touching the ceiling as he shuffled his feet leaving large clumps of hair on the tiled floor.

'Sorry Clara,' he said finally. 'The stairs were too small for my feet, I should have held on to the hand rail like my aunt always tells me to.' His ears twitched shyly.

'It's ok Marvin, I was awake anyway, but why on earth did you come and see me?' Clara asked, leaning against the countertop behind her.

'It's the Doctor....' Marvin began.

'Is he alright!?' Clara exclaimed. She was already pushing herself off the counter, her heart beating rapidly as she imagined the worst.

'He's fine but......' Marvin answered, rearranging the bag of peas on his elbow. Clara raised her eyebrow expectantly. 'He's been coming to the bar a lot, a lot more than unusual, he's also extremely drunk right now and nobody exactly wants to make him go home,' Marvin finally muttered, his ears flattening against the top of his head.

'What do you mean "make him want to go home"?' Clara questioned, frowning at Marvin.

'He's a bit, well..... he's mean when he's drunk,' Marvin said, pouting. 'Nobody wants to go near him so I volunteered to get the only person I knew who would.' He grinned proudly.

'Oh hell no!' Clara stated. 'If you think-'

'I can't believe I'm doing this,' she muttered as she climbed out of the Underground and back onto the surface of the city of London. Marvin had already gone on ahead, lolloping off into the night leaving a melted bag of frozen peas and a wet tea towel on her kitchen table. The grand cathedral of science that was the Natural History museum loomed ahead, she skirted around the perimeter before turning off a small side street dotted with old fashioned black street lamps. Glancing surreptitiously up and down the street she darted down a set of stairs to the basement of a Kensington residence. She came face to face with an unassuming, unmarked black door. Reaching towards it, the door swung smoothly open, allowing her admittance to the bar beyond. Several sets of curious eyes watched her enter before deeming her uninteresting enough to ignore. Clara spotted Marvin sat in the corner, gesturing to the bar and the familiar hunched figure of the Doctor. He was slumped on a bar stool, his coat lying dejectedly on the stool next to him, leaving him only in a dark purple shirt rolled up to the elbows. His focus was currently upon the glass of amber liquid in his right hand, a strange vapour floated down the outside of the glass from the rim. His hair was in disarray. She approached him, leaning across the bar and signalling to the bar keeper, a surprisingly normal man with a beard and tribal tattoos on his left arm. 'He's had enough,' she said, tilting her head towards the Doctor. The bar man nodded and sidled away. With a rather heavy sigh, the Doctor turned towards her.

'Clara, Clara, Clara,' he slurred, smiling widely at her. 'My Clara.'

'Hello Doctor, it's time to go home,' Clara said with an amused smile.

'I like you Clara, more than I've liked anyone in a long time. And that says a lot, considering I'm over 2000 years old by now,' he continued, oblivious to Clara's words. 'She was my best friend, did you know that?'

'Who Doctor?' Clara said, deciding to humour him. He pulled his coat off the seat next to him and patted it slowly and carefully, wobbling ever so slightly as he did. Clara sat down next to him as he swivelled on his seat, brushing his knees against hers and placing his left hand on her thigh.

'Missy,' he replied dejectedly. 'She was my first friend in the Otherworld, we made a vow to learn all we could about magic and this strange new world. But she got greedy, went down pathways I could never follow, did things I would never do,' the Doctor muttered softly. 'I tried to bring her back but it was all too late.' Clara placed her hand over his left hand comfortingly. He looked up into her eyes. She watched as his hand twitched beneath hers, saw the anguish and pain swirl in the deep blue before they inexplicably softened and the storm lessened. 'You must be cold,' he said, reaching for his coat and draping it carefully around her shoulders. He ran both his hands down her arms slowly. The comforting smell of the Doctor, of books and the wind and the hint of adventure enveloped her as she ran her cheek against the soft velvet of the collar.

'I like you Clara,' he said, his hands coming to rest back on top of her thighs. She could feel the steady beat of his pulse radiating through the tips of each of his long, artistic fingers, imprinting themselves upon her skin even through the denim of her jeans. She glanced down furtively, sighing with relief at the sight of his left hand gently stroking her thigh.

'So you've told me,' she said breathily, trying to lighten the mood but finding her mind wandering to places that it shouldn't.

'I thought you should know how much I care,' he stated, taking his hands off her thighs and tugging the lapels of the coat, wrapping it closer to her small frame. He stood up unsteadily and pushed his half empty glass away from the edge of the bar. With a great level of concentration the Doctor unrolled his sleeves and re-did the buttons. Straightening himself up, he slowly pulled his gaze to meet hers, his eyes softening as he truly noticed the way she'd wrapped herself so completely in his coat. He raised his open hand towards her, wriggling his fingers. Clara slipped her own between his, waiting for him to take the lead and willingly walk away from the bar, from the alcohol, from his own screaming demons. She sighed inwardly as the felt the slightest tug of her hand as the Doctor walked unsteadily towards the door. Clara turned and gave a reassuring smile to Marvin who was still huddled in the corner. His ears perked up from their flattened state on his head as he raised a large hairy hand in goodbye.

The cold night air hit them both violently as the door to the bar swung shut behind them. Clara guiltily noticed the Doctor shiver dressed just in his shirt, but, as if sensing her desire to hand back his coat he shook his head at her and gave her a soft, slightly broken smile. 'I deserve it,' he said.

'Don't be stupid,' she admonished. He only shook his head again and tugged gently on her hand for them to continue walking.

The journey back was quiet and almost domestic, the Doctor apologising shyly for having forgotten his Oyster card as Clara wordlessly handed him her contactless debit card before swiping through with her own Oyster card. She waited on the other side, standing off to one side to avoid the steady stream of passengers shuffling through the barriers. He joined her shortly afterwards and she immediately grabbed his hand. They both stood to the right as the escalator slowly shunted downwards into the depths of London, the tell tale warm air buffeting their faces, blowing Clara's hair into her eyes. The train was nearly empty as they boarded onto the fluorescently lit carriage, the rhythmic clatter the only sound as they swayed side by side. Climbing back up to the surface Clara realised that without conscious thought she'd taken them both back to hers. The Doctor seemed not to have noticed, or if he had he'd decided not to say anything. Upon reaching her door she pulled her key out of her pocket and let them both in. Wordlessly the Doctor took his coat from her shoulders and hung it up on the coat pegs in the hall. He then bent down and took off his boots. Clara watched anxiously as he seemed to freeze, staring at his shoes now carefully lined up next to her much smaller pair of trainers.

'Come on,' she said softly. She flicked on the light switches, relieved to hear him padding along behind her. 'Do you want a glass of water or something?' she asked.

'I meant what I said Clara,' the Doctor replied instead. She turned around to face him, finding him infinitely closed to her than she first thought. Despite the amount of alcohol he must have consumed, his breath held no traces of the liquid and his eyes were surprisingly intent and lucid. She watched, not daring to move a muscle as his eyes darted down to her parted lips. Hesitantly he raised his hand to carefully cup her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. Just as slowly, Clara began to tilt her head, leaning closer and closer. Her eyes flickered closed as she felt the gentle puff of the Doctor's breath caress her lips.

'Oh Clara, Lord of Light, Keeper of the Food, Giver of Refuge, The Cleanliest of Gods!' a chorus of voices suddenly exclaimed. Clara's eyes darted open in shock finding a slightly wild eyed Doctor looking back at her. 'Clara, Clara, Clara!' the voices continued to chant from the direction of her kitchen. The Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly, his hand dropping form her cheek. Clara couldn't quite decide whether to laugh or scream in frustration. Hanging her head and taking a deep breath she strode quickly over to the kitchen and yanked open the door. There on the floor was what she could only describe as a gathering of small gnome like creatures arranged in a perfect circle, each dressed in brown rags. 'Behold!' they spoke in unison, turning in awe to face her, raising their grubby hands in exultation.

'You have got to be kidding me,' she muttered. 'Doctor!'

'Ah,' he said, coming to stand beside her, staring down at the ring of little men at her feet. Clara noted a tinge of redness to his cheeks as he accidentally brushed up against her side.

'Please explain who they are and why of all nights they decided to interrupt us,' she asked candidly, raising her hand and slowly stroking his arm. There was no way she was going to let the Doctor retreat back into his shell after what had just happened.

'Brownies,' he replied huskily.

'Not really the time for a snack Doctor, I can do toast if you're feeling nauseous.'

'No, they're called Brownies,' he said gesturing to the tiny men who by now had lowered their hands and were looking anxiously up at the giants before them. 'They're sprites, household sprites that take joy in doing jobs, tasks that help humans. It seems the cleanliness of your home has rendered you a God in their eyes. I told you your flat was too neat for your own good.....' he added.

'Better than your flat where nearly everything I touch seems to be a risk to my health,' she countered cheekily. The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her and frowned. 'Anyway, how do I get rid of them?'

'Just give them some clothes, they'll be so offended that they should just leave,' the Doctor stated, scanning the kitchen. Taking one large step over the brownies and their tiny candles, he grabbed the lurid green tea towel from her cupboard door and pulled open her cutlery drawer. Carefully, with scissors now in hand, he proceeded to cut out what looked to Clara to be several tiny aprons. She stifled a giggle as he unconsciously poked out his tongue from the side of his mouth in concentration. When he'd finally finished he, threw the scissors and remaining scraps of the tea towel on the counter behind him, bent down to kneel on her kitchen floor and thrust the aprons in the brownie's faces. 'A gift,' the Doctor said with a smirk.

Clara watched as the small leader took one look at the proffered garment, immediately balled his fists in anger and spat at the Doctor's hand. He barely flinched at the raindrop sized globule of spit which now shimmered on his knuckle before wiping it away with one of the obnoxiously green aprons. The remaining group began to angrily extinguish their candles and break up the circle, each casting disgusted looks at her and the Doctor. 'A plague on both your houses!' they shouted as one, before scurrying away underneath her fridge.

'Well that was surprisingly easy.....' Clara muttered as the Doctor rose back up to his full height, the small aprons fluttering out of his hand and down onto the kitchen floor. His eyes were fixed intently on her as he walked slowly back across the room. Clara suddenly became acutely aware of the humming of the fridge and the sound of her own heavy breathing. Her own, panicked, heavy breathing. Her own need to gasp for air, the sounds of her choking, her own fingers clawing at her throat. Dots began to swim in front of her eyes as she was dimly conscious of her legs collapsing beneath her, of the Doctor cradling her in his arms. His voice sounded muffled, his eyes were pleading to her, willing her to breath. She could feel him pulling her increasingly cold fingers from her throat, shaking her. She began to feel an odd tingling sensation as her eyes were drawn towards his lips forming syllables she couldn't comprehend. Over and over again he seemed to be intoning the same words but to no avail. She fell into blackness, the echo of a female voice haunting her instead as she slipped deeper and deeper into the abyss.

_'I think it's time you left Clara Oswald'_


End file.
